Simply?    Destruction
by SilenceMaverick
Summary: "To put it simply? His only power is destruction. Fire burns, fire scars, fire kills. Destruction, Devastation, and Death." Read and Review! Rate M just in case! Yaoi, BoyxBoy, Don't like don't read.
1. Author's Note

Hey guys! I am finally back! Sorry for being so long in my absence from writing! I will do my best to get to work on finishing old ones and new ones (ahem ahem . . . . this one!) So anywho, hope you enjoy it!

Sincerely,

Silence.

P.s. I do not own any of the original characters from avatar.

This story was inspired by "Braille" by Regina Spektor.


	2. Chapter 1

There is something incredible about the way water catches light and tosses it back at the world. The way it seems to giggle and grin despite the moribund civilization at its bank. The rolling of war and the crashes of violence; the bright light of destruction bouncing off the surface of the impish lake. Nothing ever seems to descend past the dazzling surface. Even as the devastation occurs beneath the mere, it seems to laugh playfully as the surface swells and stirs for a few moments before returning to its mischievous lull.

But . . .

There is something incredible about the way water bestows life into the world. The way it courses through animal bodies, allowing them to move, live, and love. The way it falls down upon and brings plants to standing, green and unmarked in the post-storm haze. It even seems to revivify the lost. Just as it brings a lifeless plant back to existence, it casts an injured soul to the shore, a murmured blessing in its benevolent waves.


	3. Chapter 2

"You're alive"

Nobody spoke it, he didn't think it, and even if he had thought it he wouldn't have heard it over the pounding in his head. No, the pain, throbbing and sharp and shaking his whole body, his lungs screaming worst of all, spoke the words in its own sore tongue and he heard it loud and clear despite the ache in his head. This moment of recognition was brief as he felt a flash of chill and suddenly there was no pain, no ache, and no consciousness.

He woke from a slumber that felt like it had lasted for ages. It was dark, unnervingly so, and for a moment he thought he was dead. Until the dull pain resurfaced. After confirming that he was alive, he tried to open his eyelids and for a moment there was a slice of blinding light before he retreated behind his eyelids again. There was a commotion surrounding him, in the bright world he couldn't see and there was a person, a woman, and words. Fast, rushing words, as cool and rapid as water.

"Oh my . . . dim . . . quick . . . foolish . . . poor boy . . . food!"

He felt a cool touch on his lips, parting them and placing even cooler stone against his lips. The stone was shifted and a drop of moisture hit his dry tongue and the boy responded eagerly with a strenuous shift of his head. The stone was tilted more and a slow but steady stream of water fell and the boy swallowed eagerly, a wave of strength rolling through him as he accepted the drink. A bit of water went down the wrong tube, causing the boy to thrash with a fit of coughing.

"Be careful, girl!" The boy heard the women's voice a little more clearly followed by a low murmuring of apology and when the coughing subsided he settled down again, breathing heavily, the pain in his sore muscles shaken awake by the tossing had him grounded. A cool hand on his cheek sent a chill creeping through his muscles, soothing and caressing them into a dull throb until the boy could focus again. A whim urged him to open his eyes again and as the boy reluctantly obliged a dimmer world emerged between his lashes. With a little more confidence, the boy opened his eyes completely to reveal a wooden roof with dull paper lanterns hanging above him and a woman stooped over, staring into his face with a bored look and a spark of concern in her blue eyes.

As the woman watched the boy look around a girl scooted along a far wall to get a good look at the patient in their care. A crash set off by the girl bumping into a cupboard has the woman, glaring, and the boy, with a twinge of pain in his neck, to jerk their attention to the commotion. The girl murmured apologies as she looked into the boys eyes, large brown orbs clouded with confusion and hardened with a guarded look. Slipping out of the room the girl left the woman with the boy to work her magic.

When the girl left the room the woman spoke directly to the boy for the first time since he literally floated into her care. "Boy, can you speak?" she inquired, still looking bored, but her voice rang with a faint chime of compassion. The boy look towards her and opened his mouth, taking in a large gulp of air before speaking.

"Ye. . . ye. . . yes . . . " he murmured huskily, throat dry and scratchy, throwing him into a series of dry coughs. The woman gathered a cup of water next to the bed a placed it on the boys lips who drank from it like a man who had been lost in a desert. When he finished, he struggled to sit up and with much aid from the elderly woman, he was propped up against the wall backing the bed.

"Good, good. Now can you tell me your name?" the woman looked at the boy, ragged breath, shabby clothes, tousled hair, bruises still fading, the occasional wince of pain, and, for the millionth time since the boy literally floated into her care, wondered what this boy had gone through. The boy tried to steady he gaze on the woman but was having trouble focusing on anything as he became reoriented. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious but the eel of being conscious in his body had him feeling queasy and itchy and annoyed at the sleeping arms and legs. With some effort he focused his eyes on the woman and really began to see the being who nursed him back to the realm of the living. Silver hair was pulled back in a loose bun, wisps of hair hanging about her face and shoulder. Wrinkles crowded around her eyes and lips but an air of youth remained about the older woman and a sort of young toughness radiated from the woman. Blue eyes seemed to be thinking a million things at once as she waited for the answer and checked his health at the same time. She was sitting down but he figured if she stood she would be rather tall. Again, gathering strength the boy looked at the woman and with slow, labored syllables the boy replied.

"My na. . . ame . . . is, Je . . . Je . . . Jet."

The woman smiled and patted him on the shoulder as she stood, getting a smile from jet as she turned away. "Well then Jet, how about lunch?" and with the question the woman scurried out of the room when another crash emanated from an adjoining room. Jet smiled and shut his eyes as he heard the woman reprimanding the girl again for her clumsiness.


End file.
